


Speak or Die

by chalametsberm



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Thriller, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalametsberm/pseuds/chalametsberm
Summary: The Perlman's are a normal, loving, family. They just happen to be a normal, loving family that kills for sport. They loved the thrill of different ways they found their victims, and this was their best get yet. They were going to have someone come to them this time, in their villa, and it would be a piece of cake.





	1. Welcomes

His mother always told him that he got too attached to people. He argued that considering what they did for a living, he never got too attached to the wrong people. There were people in years past that he wanted to be able to be friends with, that he really liked, but he knew that wasn't possible. The problem was that his family so often used him as the one to butter up the victim, to make them feel safe and comfortable, and throw them off their game. Sometimes, that meant that he botched the job for them and ruined everything. 

Sometimes, Elio tried to rationalize with himself that the job his family did was one that had to be done. There had to be a bad guy in every story, or else it didn’t make sense. It was weird for him to understand that he and his family were the bad guys in their own story, but that was for the court-appointed therapist to eventually figure out. He was smoking a cigarette, staring off into the distance, thinking of the different ways that people had taken their last breath in front of him. Despite how much he hated it, it never lost its intrigue. He smirked when he thought of the people that thought they were going to get away. The thing was, no one ever got away. No one. Sometimes, he wondered how the people that hired his family found them, but it was always kept vague. He was getting older though, and he was beginning to ask questions that his family didn’t necessarily have the answers to. They didn’t have the answers very fast, anyway. They told him that it was mostly so he would pass any polygraph test that they might encounter. That was becoming more and more of a reality because it seemed like the FBI were on their tail. It could have to do with the gang they took down when Elio had just turned sixteen, but he had no real way of knowing. 

It all went downhill when his family was hired to do their first major kill, well, kills. His family called it the “VIP” of hits. It was a gang that was gaining too much power in their neighborhood and they had to knock off the leaders in order for their rival gang. Of course, his mother and father sent Elio to be the one to break the ice. He wasn't normally very nervous, but coming face to face with three badass gang leaders that he knew his family was going to kill was something else. They told him that they loved how nervous he was. They were all wearing matching leather jackets and looked like they came out of his dreams. On first glance, it could have looked like they were all just teenagers hanging out at a diner, but it was a lot more than that. Elio liked that about himself. That was mostly because his parents told him that his hidden talent was appearing to not be a threat. 

There was Sara, who was his age but had her shit together way more than he was close to. She was the one that read him the best. She was the one that would eventually figure out what they were doing. Then there was Tori. Tori was doing a million other things at this lunch and seemed to be doing them all well. Elio was more than a little intimidated, to the point where he just thought he would spill the beans right away. Luckily, he wasn't that bad at his job and managed to keep it together. Finally, there was Marble. She had the kind of eyes that you just trust. She was carrying a ukulele because they were going to her show later that day and they were all supporting her. Elio thought this was weird that this hardened gang were all so soft-spoken and caring for each other, but he figured that that was just the way it was when you were blood bonded. He had heard crazy stories of the way you got initiated into their gang, and from that alone, he was afraid of them. 

"Ah, what a gang of friends!" Elio tried to joke, but it fell flat. He smiled as all three of them looked up from their food to give him upset looks. Elio just decided to nod and commit to the terrible joke. 

When he went home, he delivered all the information he had gathered on them and his mother and Mafalda went to go do the job. Whenever he had meals like this, he made sure to get as much information as possible, because he lived for seeing his mother and Mafalda looking proud of him. He told them as he was munching on an apple, trying to hide the pride in his voice. 

This time, for one of the first times, he was actually going to go with them to do the job. Because he was there, his mother decided that they would go execution style and just use guns. He was tasked to pull the trigger for only one of them. For Sara. He was hesitating, and she could tell. She looked him dead in the eye, winked at him and said, “do it.” In his head, he did a countdown and then heard a loud bang, and it was over. 

He saw that Tori and Marble were also giving his mother and Mafalda lip. He laughed to himself because of course, they were talking shit to the people that were about to kill them. He decided that he wanted to be more like them. He wanted to be tough, and give no shits about anyone. That was a faraway dream though. He watched as they both took their last breaths. Marble was cleaning her glasses and popping gum. She put her glasses back on and raised her eyebrows at Mafalda in a ‘do it, you won’t’ challenging look. What she didn’t know was that Mafalda had seen some shit and nothing would fuck with her aim or her focus. It happened though, Mafalda pulled the trigger. She always smiled while she did it too because the bitch knew. The bitch knew that it was the scariest thing to see. 

Finally, the ringleader was the last one left. Elio’s mother always felt that was the way to go. To get the others and force the leader to see the others suffer. It was Tori. Tori was wearing what looked like a gang uniform if a gang uniform was a lot trendier and a leather jacket over a huge flannel. Elio looked up when he heard clapping. It was Tori, doing a slow clap. “Congratulations to the best family of hit people in the whole world.” Elio raised his eyebrows. “And a special shout-out to this gangly son of a bitch for being the worst intel gatherer of all time.” Elio tried not to sulk, but based on Tori’s reaction, it wasn’t working. “Oh, you didn’t think that we knew exactly what you were doing?” Elio’s mother always told him her pet peeve was when someone they had a hit out on tried to give a dramatic villain’s speech. Elio was surprised she had let it go on this long, but he knew it was because she was trying to teach him a lesson. Finally, Tori flipped Elio off, and he heard the bang from his mother’s gun. 

This summer though, he was turning seventeen, and his family was worried about passing down the family business. They told him about their new plan and that not only would he be there to help them, but he could do it if he did a good enough job. He was excited about the prospect, up until the point where he saw their new target arrive at their villa. 

The debriefing had gone as follows: Oliver was a high-ranking FBI informant, masquerading as a graduate student majoring in philosophy. He was going to come to their villa under the pretense of having him study with Elio's father and they would gather all the information that they could before they killed him. His mother warned him again and again not to get too close to him because he didn't and couldn't fuck this up, but Elio wasn't worried. Well, he wasn't worried at first. It terms of getting two birds with one stone, this was the ultimate job. 

When Oliver pulled up in the cab, he began to get concerned. Not only was he beautiful, but he was huge. Elio wasn't that small in height, but he was a lot scrawnier than Oliver. His father practically galloped up to the car to greet him, already firm in his personality of a loveable teacher. The best part of the act that he was putting on was that he was smart enough to pull it off without suspicion. 

Then, Elio was told to take Oliver around town, show him around a bit. Every time he looked up from the kitchen table they were sitting at, he made eye contact with one of his family members. His mother winked at him, his father drew a single finger across his throat, and from a distance, he could see Mafalda sharpening her knife. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie, that is if Oliver had seen any of that. He was busy working on cracking open an egg, something he was having a lot of trouble with.

Mafalda appeared at his shoulder, scaring him. His mother tried not to laugh, but he could basically hear her thinking how easy it was going to be to get information out of him. His father was even worse, barely hiding a laugh under a cough behind his newspaper. Elio wished they weren’t so goddamn obvious. He might seem easily scared, but he was also still an FBI agent. 

They had Oliver use Anchise’s bike. He looked huge on it still. Every time he looked at Oliver he had a flash vision of how hard it was going to be to kill him. It made it very hard to hold a conversation with him. Elio was worried he was acting weird, so he gave short non-answers to all of Oliver’s questions. 

“What does one do around here?” 

“Wait for the summer to end.” Hideout in a small town in Italy waiting for the investigation from their latest hit to die down so they could go back to the states. 

Oliver laughed. It seemed like his fake answer was coming off as a personality trait rather than nerves. He figured he could keep this up. Oliver had another question. “And what do you do in the winter?”

Elio looked up at him, they were making a fake bond. The fronts they were putting up were on the same page, at least. Oliver kept talking, “let me guess, you wait for it to end.”

Elio decided to be honest. Well, as honest as he could. That was generally his policy. He wasn’t a very good liar, and he was happy that this was a family business he was in, or else he would have never gotten the job. “Wait for the winter to end. We only come here for Christmas.” 

Oliver’s ears seemed to perk up at that like he was catching Elio in a lie. Elio noted this as what he did when he thought he was on someone’s trail so he could use it for later if need be. “I thought you were Jewish?” 

Elio laughed. They were a lot of things that they lied about. This was one of the only things that he didn’t have to lie about. They were Jewish. He never thought that this would be something that he would be talking to Oliver about, but he saw the Star of David around his neck and it made sense. 

“Aside from our family, you’re probably the only Jew to set foot in this town.” Being able to have a conversation with Oliver that wasn’t based on his lies was refreshing. He hated that his mother was right about how close he got to people, but ultimately, it was lonely not being able to bond with anyone. He wanted friends, specifically, he wanted friends that his family wasn’t pulling hits on, but one thing at a time would do. 

“I’m from a small town in New England.” That was a lie, and Elio knew it. Oliver didn’t sound even a little bit like he was from New England, but he let him get away with that. He figured that this background was a part of his undercover persona. It seemed weak, though, because anyone from New England would immediately recognize that his accent wasn’t correct. “I know what it’s like to be the odd Jew out.” Oliver was talking with an air of confidence that Elio could only dream of. He spoke, even though he was lying through his teeth, as someone that was strapped to a polygraph machine and knew he was telling the truth. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Oliver got up. He figured that this meant he was going to be showing Oliver around more, and he was trying to think of where to take him. But, Oliver got on his bike and threw a “later” over his shoulder before biking away to who knows where. A part of Elio was disappointed, even though he was exhausted from trying to keep up with their conversation. He didn’t really say much, but his mind was moving so fast that it felt like he had delivered a full speech at the time that they were together. 

Elio ended up biking back to his house. His parents were anxiously waiting for him to get home, almost as though they had expected him to come back alone. They weren’t even pretending to do anything when he came in. They were probably the worst hitmen of all time or the hitmen with the best luck of all time. 

“What if I had come back with Oliver? What would you guys have done?” Elio felt like he had to be the one to tell them that they should be responsible. In reality, he had just wished that he had come back to the villa with him. He missed Oliver already. Maybe his mother was right about him getting too attached to people. 

“Oh, calm down, Ellie-Bellie.” Elio rolled his eyes. 

“We know what we’re doing, El, we have been doing this for a while now.” Elios mother reached over to rustle his hair. He never understood how she could be so nurturing and mothering when she was talking about killing people. He also hated to admit it, but it was true. They really did know what they were doing. He was worried though because Oliver didn’t seem like someone that was bad at their job. Or someone that wouldn’t give it their all. He tried not to let it worry him just yet. 

Oliver finally did get home, but it was much later than he said it would be. His parents had thought about killing him right when he got home, but Elio reminded them why they were doing this. This wasn’t just some hit they were doing, but they had to get information first. He tried to tell himself that this was why he was stalling them, and not because he was growing closer to Oliver with each day that passed. 

When he did get home, Elio went to him and asked where he had been. 

“Out. Here and there, you know?” Oliver had jumped when Elio had asked, almost as if he didn’t expect to see anyone up so late. “I thought you guys went to sleep earlier than this. You’re always such early risers.”

Elio’s mother laughed from the hallway. Her voice was muffled, by the wall, making it sound more threatening. “We don’t like to waste precious time with sleep around here.” Elio heard his father coming around the corner, having used the other staircase. “Welcome back, Oliver, we hope you are loving our small town just as much as we do. We hope that you consider this as a temporary home for you.” That was his father, his voice to the untrained ear positive, but for someone that was paying attention, and Elio knew that Oliver was trained to, there was a threat in every word. 

Mafalda, he knew, based on her light footsteps was walking around in the kitchen. She didn’t say a word. Elio had a feeling that Oliver always knew where everyone was at all times. As Elio was taking count of the people in his house he almost hit himself for being so dumb. 

 

He realized at the same second as Oliver did: the Perlman’s officially had him surrounded. Elio tried to shake off that his entire being wanted to step in and protect Oliver. He could feel his family getting closer and closer. All of a sudden, he understood what it was to be on the other side of the situation, and he hated it. He made the split decision that he had never made before, he grabbed Oliver’s hand. 

“Wow! Late night, let’s go upstairs!” Elio could feel the anger radiating off of his mother and father. Mafalda just seemed annoyed, but the person that seemed the most irritated was Oliver. He didn’t seem like he wanted to go anywhere with Elio, and Elio understood that this was fair. 

“What’s the rush, Elio?” That was his father, who Oliver was facing. Elio was facing his mother, behind Oliver who was holding a large knife. Elio grabbed Oliver’s hand again and tugged him up the stairs, behind him, he could hear his mother stab the knife into the doorframe. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Well, later.” Oliver, either unaware that Elio saved his life or simply stone cold, went into his room and shut the door without another word.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at Oliver's POV. Held captive by loose strings.

Oliver went into his room confused about a lot of what had happened. On the surface, he understood the basics, but the thing that was bothering him was why it all happened the way that it did. Here he was, undercover scoping out one of the most notorious crime families in Italy and their son and the heir to leading them had just saved his life. Did Elio know what he had done? He had seemed nervous, but Oliver didn’t know if he could trust him or not. Oliver was damn good at his job, but Elio was something else entirely. 

As Oliver was getting ready for bed, something huge hit his window. It made him jump and go immediately into defense mode. It sounded loud enough to be a bullet, but it didn’t break the window. When he decided how he was going to approach the window again and be safe about it, something else hit the window again with a BANG and exploded all over it. Peaches. Whoever it was down in the garden was throwing peaches up at him. He laughed but because he was alone in a house full of people that were trying to kill him, he was really laughing at how ridiculous it all was. Oliver wondered if it was a trap. Someone throwing something harmless at the window like a ridiculous Romeo and Juliet situation and then he looks down the barrel of a gun when he sticks his head out the window. Oliver decided that he would take the bait. He was a trained officer of the law, and he was not going to let two peaches scare him. 

Oliver walked over to the window. When he looked down, he saw nothing. When he turned around, he saw what he feared most: the barrel of a gun. He couldn’t tell who was holding it, he just knew that he wished he had been cleared to take his gun with him to Italy. He had been told that it would have been too conspicuous to take any weapons with him since he was working undercover, but he was literally bringing nothing to a gunfight where he was outnumbered. The only thing he could tell was that the arms holding the gun were long and skinny. He didn’t know what to think, all that he knew was he was fucked. There was no way he was going to get out of this alive. He was staying, literally at the home of the world’s most renowned killer family, allegedly, and he was facing a gun. He decided he was just going to accept his fate. He knew that if he was killed right now, then he would be able to help get them taken down because everyone knew where he was. He knew that this would help end the violence. Oliver didn’t want to watch the gun go off, so he shut his eyes. 

Oliver fell to the ground, the blasts louder than he remembered. That, he realized was because when he did target practice, he was normally wearing earplugs. This time, he didn’t have the benefit of their noise cancellation. Now, he was mad at himself, because he didn’t want his last thought to be about why the bullets that were slowly killing him were so loud. Oliver felt a pair of hands dragging him to his feet. Why was he being taken somewhere before he died? He just wanted to let himself go and then be taken to wherever they took their bodies. He was taking a really long time to die when he thought about it. He had never seen anyone die before, but in movies, they usually were out long before this. He heard the voice of the person dragging him, but it was faint. Then, he realized his shock was over. He was in serious pain. But, not where he expected. He was in pain. He was in a lot of pain, but it didn’t feel like he was dying. 

He looked down, noticing that whoever was dragging him was essentially giving him a crutch for his right leg. This motherfucker literally shot him in the foot. He was probably related to the most killer family of northern Italy, and he decided to shoot Oliver in the foot. This sadistic fuck was going to really torture him. He was going to be alive for all of it. Oliver saw that the gun was in this person’s holster in their hip and he considered grabbing it and shooting himself, to prevent the pain, but as soon as he grabbed out, he was shoved down on a chair. He heard laughing coming from this person, and he knew who it was immediately. He had been taken upstairs to the attic by this fuck and he was going to need some answers. 

He grimaced but started talking. “Elio. A pleasure to see you. What brings you here on this lovely occasion?” 

Elio didn’t respond. He didn’t say anything back, he just paced so he was facing where Oliver sat in his chair. He came to a stop in front of Oliver’s chair. “Who are you?”

Oliver grimaced at this question. It seemed like maybe Elio knew that he wasn’t who he said he was, but he didn’t think that Elio knew who he actually was. It was on an intuition, but he went with it. He was damn good at his job. “You have read my whole resume when I applied for this job, didn’t you?” Oliver was feeling smug about how calm he was being. It was hard to maintain an even speaking level when there was literally a bullet hole in his foot. 

Elio looked at him for a second and took the gun out again. Oliver watched his movements carefully. Elio quickly fired two shots into the air. Then, with a crazed look in his eyes, he got really close to Oliver. Too close to Oliver’s liking. “Bull. Shit.” Elio tipped the chair over until Oliver was about to tip over. Then, to catch himself, he stomped his foot down. The one that was just shot. 

Oliver couldn’t keep a quiet, “fuck” from escaping his lips. He was fucked. He was utterly fucked and was trying to think about how he could get out of this. 

Elio was walking in circles around Oliver, almost enjoying this too much. The attic was dusty, and now there were two small beams of sunlight coming in through the holes in the roof. Elio continued walking until he came around to behind Oliver.   
“Tell. Me. Who. You. Are.” Elio put his hands on Oliver’s shoulders. He rested them there for a beat too long, almost as if he was impressed by how broad Oliver was. It took Oliver back. 

Oliver wanted to know who Elio thought he was. Because he had a feeling that Elio didn’t have the slightest clue. “Well, since you’re clearly the one in charge, how about you tell me who I am, Mr. Smart Stuff?” Oliver was taking a huge gamble considering the fact that Elio had a gun and had already proven that he would shoot Oliver. The thing that stood out was it was as if Elio had researched where to shoot someone so they wouldn’t die. That had to be the only reason he was shot in the foot. He didn’t think that Elio relied too heavily on the metaphorical, but he really hoped not. He didn’t want to have a bullet in the foot because this murderous fuck thought he was being poetic. 

Elio laughed from behind him. Fuck this guy. Absolutely fuck him. Oliver was in one of the worst situations he had ever been in because he misjudged it. He thought that maybe Elio wasn’t the one that was the leader, that he was the more timid one, but it turned out that he was the worst one of them all. “All I know is that you don’t deserve to live.” 

Oliver didn’t expect to hear this much anger being spit at him, and without thinking about why, he turned around. What he got was an expression of someone looking at him as if he was the devil himself. He had never seen so much pure disgust and anger in his life, and it made him shift in his seat. He decided he was going to pressure Elio because, at this point, he figured he was going to die and he decided he was going to let this kid have his villain’s speech. He was practically foaming at the mouth for it. His pause allowed him to wonder what life would have been like if they had met in a different scenario. Oliver had never thought about this in any other case he had been on. He hated how unprofessional he was being, but he figured he could be, as it was most likely his last mission. 

It turned out that Elio was going to keep going, with Oliver’s silence. “I know that you must have done something really bad. So bad that my family doesn’t talk about it. So bad that we had to bring you to us.” Elio was next to Oliver’s face now. Oliver didn’t know where he learned to interrogate people, but he was not doing a good job. “Why don’t you tell me what you did, Oliver?” Oliver looked up at him. He didn’t look as scary as he probably felt like he did. 

A part of Oliver wanted to come clean and tell Elio everything, but he was worried that Elio would try to fall on the sword for his family. It seemed like Elio had no idea what was really going on. But, there was also the question of whether or not that was all an elaborate act. So, he decided to ask the best question he could think of. “Why the fuck did you shoot me in the foot?” It was starting to hurt really bad. It was making Oliver fade in and out of consciousness and he figured he should get answers before he was fully gone. He could hear himself slurring, and he was doing his best to stay awake, as there was a literal murderer holding him captive, but fainting was winning out in a big way. This seemed to worry Elio, as if he had never gotten this far with someone or if he had never done anything by himself before. Oliver was quickly going dark, and he felt himself being lifted to the dusty mattress next to him and laid down.

Oliver felt something by his foot, and when he looked down, he saw that Elio was bandaging him up. He tried to stay awake to call him a sick fuck for shooting him and then fixing him, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. The last thing he felt was a blanket being pulled over him and he passed out. 

Oliver woke up as it was starting to get light out again. He didn’t remember where he was and then all of a sudden it hit him. Mostly, in the foot. He was in serious pain, but it almost seemed like there were serious steps taken to alleviate it as much as possible. He looked around and saw that he was still in the attic, but he was alone now. He was considering how he would escape. Something about being left alone felt like a trap, and he didn’t want to be too risky. Besides, he was alone in a foreign country and didn’t have anything on him that was real identification. He was basically no one in the worst way. 

Oliver took a look around and saw that there was the door they must have come in through, and a window. He thought for a second about jumping out the window, but even with his training, that would be too risky. He thought about going through the door, but that felt like the most obvious trap of all time. He decided to give it some time to see if anyone would come up to make sure that he didn’t escape. It seemed like they weren’t treating this hostage situation very seriously, but at the same time, it wasn’t like he could really go anywhere. His knowledge of Italian was decent at best and he wasn’t exactly a non-threatening looking guy. At 6’5” the people in the small town looked at him like he was some kind of a beast already, and he didn’t see himself having very many allies in Crema.

After some time had passed and he grew tired of waiting around, he decided to stand up and try the door. He didn’t need to die because he was too much of a pussy to try the literal front door. When he stood up it hurt like a bitch. He had to bite his fist to not make any noise, and still, he felt himself make noise. He wondered where everyone else in the house was. Despite being so big, it was usually easy to hear where anyone was because it was so open and echo-y. He started to walk as best as he could towards the door, looking down, concentrating on walking with one foot in front of the other when he did what he feared most: bump into someone. It wasn’t Elio, that was for sure. It was someone he had seen around but had never spoken to. He was pretty sure her name was Marzia. Fuck. He had no idea that this crime family extended outside of the family, but it was looking pretty grim in terms of his survival. 

“Where are you going?” Marzia didn’t seem to be asking that in a threatening way, which made it even scarier. She had a thick French accent and if he wasn’t worried about her killing him, he would think that she seemed like a nice girl. Unfortunately, though, it was hard to be considered nice when you are a part of a family that murders for sport. Or at least that’s what everyone at the office thought they did it for. It was unclear why they did it, and that was what made tracking them down so hard. They killed indiscriminately and without mercy. There was no hard evidence linking any of the crimes back to the Perlmans and at a certain point, it was all based on gut feelings, which was not something that Oliver liked to bet on. 

Oliver didn’t know how to answer her question, because he didn’t know how to read her. He hadn’t spent enough time around her to know if she was being threatening or not. So, he decided to stall, and shift his weight, because he was not standing with all his weight on the foot that wasn’t shot and it was becoming an issue. When he shifted his weight, Marzia looked down. Oliver was hoping to do so subtly because it was never good to have someone that was most likely an enemy know that you were injured, but still she seemed to catch on. 

She looked down and gasped. “Oh my god! What happened to you? Is that a bullet wound? How did this happen? We need to get you to the hospital.” Marzia started to drag Oliver’s arm to the door, in a panic. Oliver had no idea how to read this situation. Either Marzia truly had nothing to do with this, or she was the worst of them all and pretending to get him help so that he could end up hurting her more. He heard more footsteps coming up to the attic. Great. What the hell kind of family uses their attic so much? He had no idea who he hoped it would be because at this point, he was in a house full of enemies. 

“Marzia?” Oliver would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Elio. He sounded distressed. Once again, Oliver was confused by Elio and everything that he did. When he showed up around the balcony, he was even more confused, because, in Elio’s hands, he had a tray with what looked like medical supplies and food for two. “I got this, M. You can go hang out with the girls.” Marzia looked at Elio like she wasn’t going to leave but ultimately decided to go. Then, it was just him and Elio again. Elio saw that Oliver was still standing, and after scurrying to put down the tray, came over and tried to help him get back to the mattress. 

“What do you want, Elio?” Oliver needed answers. He needed something concrete to understand what was happening. 

“I want the truth.” Elio seemed like he didn’t think he was asking for much, but if he only knew how much he was really asking for. He was asking for the world. Why would Oliver tell Elio the truth about anything? There was nothing that Elio had done to warrant any truth from Oliver. 

“You have the truth.” Oliver decided that he was just going to let Elio believe whatever he wanted to, because he didn’t know if he would even believe the truth, and Oliver wanted to be able to investigate more if he could. He didn’t know if that was possible, but he wanted to try his best. 

The problem was this statement was met with the cocking of a gun, and said gun being jabbed into his rib cage. “Truth. Now.” Oliver didn’t respond and was hit again with the gun. He heard someone calling for Elio and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle this, whatever this was. Elio stood up and walked away, never turning around from Oliver. 

Once Elio left, Oliver looked at the food that was sitting on the tray. He was so hungry he could die. He hadn’t eaten since early the day before and he was feeling it. He took one of the pastries and ate it all in one bite. It was only then that he thought about what could be in them. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, because he quickly found himself losing consciousness again. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep this interesting/suspenseful/scary but I don't know how well that's going. I have a vision that is in the works that I will continue if people like this enough. 
> 
> thanks for reading/kudos'ing/commenting it means a lot 
> 
> my tumblr is @/lilchalamet


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elio does some soul-searching. Oliver does some eating.

What Elio didn’t understand was why he wanted to be the one in charge of this by himself so badly. He didn’t even want Marzia involved, and they did everything together, or they used to anyway. Hell, he was the one that he lost his virginity to. His parents used to joke about them getting married because it just made sense. Everything about him and Marzia used to just make sense. Until Oliver came along. There was something about Oliver that intrigued him. He knew that he would eventually have to kill him, which was kind of a bummer, but he needed to figure some stuff out first and he wanted information from an outside source. He had been homeschooled his whole life and he never really watched the news or had any idea what was going on outside their little world, and he had a feeling he was missing out on some information. 

He didn’t know who to trust. It was a weird feeling to not know if he could trust anyone, especially the people he had grown up the closest with. He had never thought about whether or not he could trust his family in the past, but now that there was someone so close to them that was from the outside, he was beginning to have his doubts. Elio didn’t know why there was a feeling in his gut that he could trust Oliver, but he seemed to have information that he would need. It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to follow through with his job, he was just going to pull it out for a while and hope to learn something in the process. There was something in Oliver’s eyes that made Elio want to believe that they could gain things from each other. 

When Elio saw Marzia going up to the attic, his blood ran cold. He didn’t need her messing with Oliver. He didn’t want to go up right away, because he didn’t want to seem suspicious. He was trying to play it cool, and even though he was in a family of vigilante hitmen, he was not exactly great at doing that. He decided that his best tactic would be to bring food to Oliver. He realized that it had been a while since he had eaten, and he also probably should fix up his foot a little bit so that he could prolong this as much as possible. 

Elio went to the kitchen and started to gather some snacks. For some reason, he had to be the one to prepare them, he wasn’t going to let Mafalda do this, he had to be the one. Luckily, Mafalda was in the garden, smoking and drinking her afternoon coffee, so he didn’t have to worry. She looked up at him and started to make moves to come and help him or take over, but Elio simply shook his head and shooed her back. She smiled and shook her head. He wasn’t great at doing stuff in the kitchen, and she knew that, but he could figure out this much. 

Later, he walked over to the cabinet in his parents’ bathroom. It had some medical supplies that looked like they could be fairly helpful and he piled as many as he could into his arms. He didn’t know much about how to fix people up, but he did know how to hurt people, as he learned from his parents so he figured he could work in the opposite direction for Oliver. 

When he walked up the stairs, he heard Marzia freaking out about something. He found out that it was about the bullet wound. Interesting. He figured that they would have been able to hear the gunshot from the villa, but it seemed like they couldn’t hear anything that was going on. He might have to use that later. The problem was that Oliver was smart, and he probably realized that right at the same time that Elio did, if not earlier. 

He decided that he didn’t want Oliver to get a read on him at all. It was the only way that he could get the upper hand. While he was coming in with medical supplies, he was going to play bad cop. It was a lot harder to play good cop, bad cop when there was only one of him. He knew that the first thing he had to do was dismiss Marzia because he didn’t want her to know what he was doing, because he didn’t quite know, and he didn’t trust Marzia enough to not rat him out to his parents. “I got this, M. You can go hang out with the girls.” Marzia looked at Elio like she wasn’t going to leave but ultimately decided to go. Then, it was just him and Elio again. Elio saw that Oliver was still standing, and after scurrying to put down the tray, came over and tried to help him get back to the mattress. 

“What do you want, Elio?” Elio didn’t expect Oliver to just come out and ask him questions. That being said, he should have been ready for something like that. He knew that Oliver was in the FBI, or at least that’s what his parents told him. 

“I want the truth.” Elio wanted a reason to not kill him. Elio usually felt this way when he was around people that he was going to have to kill in the long run. He didn’t think that he was really the killing type. He was always looking for something that he would be able to bring back to his family to let them live. The only problem was that most people knew who he and his family were too soon for him to be able to get any good information out of them. They never trusted him, and he got that, but it still stung a little bit. 

“You have the truth.” This made Elio sad more than anything. He wanted to be angry if he was being honest with himself, but he was sad. No one in the goddamn world seemed to be able to be completely honest with him, and that really fucking sucked. 

Elio had abandoned being the bad cop and went straight to being an angry and aggressive cop. He knew he wasn’t going to shoot Oliver again, but he wanted to remind him that he could, by cocking the gun. “Truth. Now.” Oliver didn’t respond, and Elio hit him again with the gun. Someone from downstairs called Elio’s name and he swore under his breath. He looked at Oliver and walked down the stairs, giving him a look that meant he would be coming back. He thought about taking the medical supplies with him to prove a point but decided against it. He didn’t want to explain why he had them to his parents. 

He walked downstairs and came face to face with his parents and Marzia and Mafalda. “Hello? I’m kind of working on something right now.” 

“Elio what are you doing?” That was his mother. She would look like a concerned mother if she wasn’t asking about Elio’s progress in interrogating and killing someone. 

“He’s doing nothing well, that’s for sure! Let me go up there and do it myself!” Mafalda started to make moves to go upstairs, but his father stopped her. 

“Let’s hear Elio out. Besides, we can’t just kill him. We know that he most likely told the people back home that he was here. The thing is that he doesn’t know that we know who he is. Or at least he doesn’t think we know. Elio is doing a great job, and we need to recognize that.” This was followed by a pat on the back from his father. “Good job, son, we’re very proud of you.” 

Elio didn’t want to accept that. He had never heard it from his father, and he really wanted it to be real, but something about it seemed too fake for it to be. He just nodded upstairs. “I have to do something up there, ok? Just trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Elio hoped he sounded confident because he really didn’t. Not at all. He turned around before they could say anything and walked upstairs. 

When he walked upstairs, he found that all of the snacks had been eaten, and he was starting to try to wrap up his foot. Elio saw that he wasn’t getting anywhere with that, so he coughed and made Oliver jump. He looked up at him, with crumbs still on his face. Elio laughed. It was all so strangely endearing that he couldn’t help himself from going up to Oliver and wiping the crumbs off his face. What he didn’t expect was for that to feel so intimate. Oliver kept eye contact for a while, and Elio didn’t show any signs of wanting to look away, but he knew he had to. 

Elio brushed Oliver’s hands away from the foot and went to bandaging it up himself. Oliver looked scared at first and then thankful, and then confused. So many expressions played out on his face in such a short amount of time, it was incredible. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Bandaging you up.” 

“Obviously, you goose. Why are you doing that?” 

Elio looked up at him, and Oliver looked genuinely confused. “Would you believe that I felt bad for shooting you in the foot?” 

Oliver shook his head, almost laughing himself. “No. But I have a feeling that you just had a talking to about why I’m not dead yet.” 

Elio looked confused. How did he possibly know that? He scrunched his eyebrows at Oliver and started to form a sentence, but Oliver answered it before he could. “You left the door open. You can only hear when the door to the attic is left open. You look cute when you’re confused like that.” 

Elio blushed. Why was Oliver calling him cute? There was so much wrong with this. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t cute or even good looking at all, but he certainly wasn’t compared to the Greek god that Oliver was. It wasn’t fair that he was just supposed to act professionally around him all the time. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet, Elio?” Oliver paused for what some might call dramatic effect. He was enjoying himself too much. Elio made a note to never feed him so much again. He seemed to be back to his normal self when he was well fed with Mafalda’s pastries. Oliver looked like he was about to come to a conclusion, and Elio had no idea what he was going to say because it seemed like he might know more than Elio ever did. “I think you trust me more than anyone else in this house. I don’t think you’re ever going to kill me. And you’re going to try your best to not let your family kill me, either.” 

Elio tried to work on his best poker face, but to get his anger out he accidentally pushed his thumb into the bullet hole. He wanted to prove a point, he didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t go as planned. 

“Fuck.” Oliver winced in pain. “Guess I was right. This will be a long summer, partner.” 

Shit. Elio was screwed.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up in the attic, because heat rises ;)

For the first time in a significant way, Elio didn’t know if he could trust his family. Sure, they had been there for him his whole life and they always told him that they were on his side no matter what, but now he wasn’t sure if they were ever on the right side. His family had never given their job any room for a moral gray area because that would have made things too complicated. Instead, they had given him the idea that any people they were killing, they were doing it for the good of the rest of the world. This was the first time that there was moral gray area introduced, and it was sending Elio on a loop. They weren’t paid hit men now with Oliver, they were taking him out because he was on a mission to take them out. It was a dance of sorts. They had to make the right moves to make sure that the FBI and other international organizations weren’t going to be snooping around anymore, and that was a hard thing to guarantee. If they did this right, they would be okay for a while. 

That being said, he also couldn’t trust Oliver. Even though he knew what Oliver’s role was and what he was doing he wanted to hear it from Oliver himself. What if he really wasn’t an FBI agent? What if he was actually a grad student? For the first time, Elio was not blindly believing everything his family was telling him. He used to be able to trust Marzia, but he had a sinking suspicion that she would have just killed Oliver in the attic if he hadn’t come upstairs when he had. Elio decided that he was going to take things into his own hands. 

He was pacing around the villa and allowed his pacing to take him upstairs to the attic, where Oliver was sitting up and looking as smug as ever. Elio pondered for a moment before Oliver looked at him if this would be so difficult if Oliver wasn’t so good looking. Elio didn’t have much time to think about this, because Oliver turned pretty quickly once he heard Elio enter the room. Elio cleared his throat because he was about to be a hard-ass, and he didn’t have time to get bullshit answers from Oliver. He didn’t know if he had any time at all. 

“Is there a world where you would be honest with me about who you are?” Elio was grasping at straws. He has never felt like he had his back against the wall as much as he did with Oliver. With his family, he did things because it was what was expected of him but he still felt that they would still love him if they fucked up. But now, for some reason, he wanted the approval of Oliver, someone that he was supposed to kill. Someone that was, for all intents and purposes, the enemy number one of his family. He tried really hard not to forget that, but it wasn’t going well. It was convenient to forget, to think of Oliver as a real graduate student visiting his father, not someone that was an enemy to them. 

“What did your family tell you about me?” Oliver had seemed to forgive him for the finger in the bullet-hole transgression from earlier. Or maybe he hadn’t. This was not an answer at all. Elio did not appreciate that Oliver’s technique, for the most part, was to answer questions with more questions. Elio didn’t expect Oliver to brandish a badge, or tell him point blank, mostly because that would be dumb to carry something like that on an undercover mission. He figured they would talk about the truth as if they were talking about other things. Talking about the things that mattered without coming close to actually talking about them. 

“Does it matter?” Elio didn’t think that anything mattered. He also had a desperate feeling to get Oliver to talk again. Even if it was a monologue on Elio’s shortcomings, for the first time in his life, he felt as though someone was taking him seriously, and actually cared about him at all. This was not a feeling he experienced very often. He often felt that even Marzia didn’t tell him everything. He had never wanted someone to be mad at him before, this was a new feeling. Really, though, Elio didn’t know if he wanted Oliver to be mad at him or if he wanted Oliver to think things about him. If Oliver wasn’t feeling strong emotions about Elio, he was worried that he would simply disappear from Oliver’s mind. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Oliver grinned. It wasn’t a full grin. Oliver had never allowed himself to smile all the way. Elio was both nervous and excited about what this smirk meant. He decided to bounce back angrily because he realized they might have been flirting. They were playing word tennis, and Oliver was winning. Elio wanted to let him win, he loved seeing Oliver smile. 

Elio shook his head like he could physically empty his intrusive thoughts about Oliver out of his head. It didn’t work. No shit. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Oliver vaguely gestured around himself. “I haven’t had a chance to tour your extensive property as I have spent most of my time up here, shot in the foot, but it seems like you are living the dream.” Elio squinted at Oliver. He wasn’t done talking, he could feel it. “For now, at least.” 

Elio didn’t like the way that sounded. This was a firm reminder of why they were in each other’s lives. He got into Oliver’s face like he had seen his mother and Mafalda do before. Once he was an inch away from Oliver’s face, he spoke, seething. “Is that a threat?” Elio tried not to think about how easy it would be to kiss Oliver. Because that didn’t make sense, that was not the right thing to be thinking about, especially now. He always wanted to be more tough, more like what Oliver seemed to be. He needed either his family or Oliver to like him enough to want to be around him, but with his track record, this was not going well on either front. 

Oliver was laughing. He was literally laughing in his face. Elio wondered if he was too easy to read. He probably was. His parents always told him that was what his biggest downfall in their profession was. You could feel the bullet coming from a mile away when he decided it was time. Oliver brought his voice down because he could, they were still very close to each other. “It depends on what your intentions are.” Oliver pulled back a little, not all the way, to fully look at Elio’s face. Elio still felt the loss of closeness. “Would you like it to be a threat?” Elio looked into Oliver’s eyes for too long to be normal. He didn’t know how to answer that without revealing too much of himself. But, if Elio thought about it, he had never been this vulnerable with anyone before. He might as well have been naked. 

“I-.“ Oliver surged forward. He seemed to grimace, potentially from putting weight on his foot by accident, but Elio didn’t have time to think about that. Elio stupidly thought that Oliver was going to kiss him. Elio couldn’t believe the world of delusion he lived in that made him believe the man he was holding hostage in his attic wanted to kiss him. Instead, Oliver had positioned himself so that he could whisper into his ear. His voice came out gravelly like he had just woken up and hadn’t spoken yet. 

“Does your family know you are losing your faith in them? That you are never going to be able to kill me?” Before Elio could protest that he could have killed Oliver anytime he wanted, he got interrupted again. What he was going to say probably wasn’t going to be convincing anyway. Because what Oliver said was true. He would never be able to kill Oliver, because, already, that would be killing a part of himself. 

Elio swallowed hard. Before he could answer, he heard someone coming upstairs. He did what anyone would do in the situation. He started kissing Oliver. It was his mother that came upstairs, but once she saw what was going on, she laughed and walked back down the stairs. Elio was still kissing Oliver. It wasn’t necessary anymore, but it was nice. It was probably his last chance to do so, so he relished in it. 

The door shut, and Oliver was the one to pull away. Of course, he was, because Elio was the one that wanted this to happen. “You going to tell me what that was?” Oliver was laughing, so he wasn’t mad. He didn’t seem like he hated what happened, more that he was confused. Which was fair. 

“Aren’t you some kind of spy? Can’t you figure out what just happened?” Elio felt, for the first time, that he was the one in charge. Elio would eventually tell him, just not right away. He wanted to hold all the cards for at least a little while longer. 

“They really don’t know, do they?” Oliver seemed shocked. And then not surprised at all. 

Elio decided to continue to be coy and shrug, raising an eyebrow. Two can play at this game. “We have to set up some ground rules. You know, if I’m going to continue to not murder you.” 

“What do the ground rules say about what you just did?” Oliver raised an eyebrow. Shit. He was good. This back and forth was never something that he had ever liked with his parents. That was mostly because they didn’t respect him. They used to, but that was before everything changed. 

“It was necessary given the circumstances.” Oliver let out a laugh. Elio covered his mouth, his family couldn’t hear Oliver laughing, that was too dangerous. 

“Ooh, kinky.” Elio hated Oliver at that moment. He also hated the blush that was certainly forming on his face in response to what was a joke to Oliver. 

“My parents still think I’m going to kill you. That I’m playing the long game.” Oliver zipped his lip. “I suppose you want proof that I’m not doing that?” 

Oliver shrugged. “I figure if you were going to kill me, you would have done it a long time ago. It’s not like I can go anywhere, I might as well appreciate the view. I would love to leave this attic if that’s possible.” 

“Fine, you can stay in my room and I will stay in my grandfather’s old room. I would have you stay there, but I’m pretty sure I’ve just figured out the perfect angle.” 

“And what’s that, James Bond?” 

“You’re going to fall in love with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be spooky again. Let me know what you think! my tumblr got fucking terminated so I can only be reached here now :'(
> 
> love anyone that is still reading this 
> 
> also i love a crazy ending


	5. 5

“You’re going to fall in love with me.” Elio didn’t phrase it as a question, because it wasn’t one. And, for the most part, he figured it should work out. It would not be the first time that Elio ruined a hit, and it certainly would not be the last. 

Elio stretched a hand out to Oliver, and once he stood up on his good foot only, he wrapped an arm around Oliver’s waist in an attempt to help him walk to the room and out of the attic. Oliver grunted, which Elio assumed meant he was ready for the pilgrimage, so they began to walk. Slowly, and painfully, down the stairs, to what would soon become Oliver’s room. It had been cleaned because they wanted to keep up the act that they were actually going to house him and treat him like a student, so Elio didn’t have to worry about that. He had his mind on other things, like how he was going to explain this to Oliver and how he was going to get more information out of Oliver. He was really putting his life and Oliver’s life on the line with this plan, and he hoped that Oliver couldn’t see through his faux confidence. 

Once they got to the room that Oliver had slept in for one night when he first arrived, he looked around. “So, this is your room?” 

“Yeah, when we come here, this is where I stay.” Elio realized he didn’t call it his room. It would never be his room in his mind, he didn’t like staying at the villa, they were always there when things got ‘bad’ in the states. Elio never knew the extent of how bad things were, but he knew that they were not good when his parents cheerfully told him that they were going to be going to the villa for a while. This used to be code when Elio was little, he thought this place was fun, but that was before he knew what his parents did. He wondered to himself if he even knew now what they did. 

Elio snapped out of it, Oliver had sat down, and talking to him, and wasn’t paying attention. When he started to listen, Oliver seemed to be repeating himself, based on the smile and furrowed brow on his face. A face full of contradictions. “So, Bond, why do you think this plan will work?” 

Elio smiled. He had an advantage in this conversation because he knew it had worked before. Oliver didn’t know this. He debated whether he should tell Oliver, or if he should stay mysterious. He decided to go for vague. Elio shrugged, and it failed to look casual. “It’s worked in the past.” 

Oliver thought about this for a little while. Then, he sat up straight in the bed. “No.” Elio cocked his head at Oliver in a, ‘what could you possibly be talking about’ manner. There was no way Oliver had figured it out. “Don’t tell me that’s how Marzia got involved. That’s insane! She doesn’t even have a record. I would know, I checked.”

Elio had a look in his eyes that screamed ‘crazy’ when he looked back at Oliver. “She used to.” Oliver crossed his arms, clearly looking for more of an explanation. Elio was going to stay mysterious, but a part of him wondered if they would be able to do a tit for tat trade-off of truths. If Elio gave Oliver this information, perhaps he could learn more about Oliver. He wished that he could feel confident in asserting that if anything, Oliver should be kissing his feet for not having killed him yet. “She was involved in a crime family. They were taking out people. Good people. Not like us. They didn’t care who they killed. It seemed like they did it for sport. So, the police had us track her down and use her as leverage.” Elio had never told this story out loud, and it sounded robotic and tinny coming out of his mouth. He looked at Oliver who silently told him to keep going. “And, it turns out, she has a real affinity for doing things the right way, and you know,” Elio pointed at himself. It was not his best move, but it got the point across. 

Oliver licked his lips while he was thinking. Elio didn’t notice that. Yes, he did. Oliver saw this, too. Then, he said something that took the wind out of Elio’s lungs. “So, what you’re really saying is that if I want to live, I have to get you to like me enough to keep me around? Why do that? Marzia’s not good enough for you anymore?” 

Elio was getting irritated. He slammed the door of the room shut. What he knew and Oliver didn’t is that this wouldn’t cause any alarm; this door slammed no matter how hard you pushed it shut. With a whisper that was coming out laced with poison, approaching the bed, Elio made himself clear. “If anything, you should be thanking me. You owe me your life. You’re just some shady FBI agent that wants to get his rocks off before he does whatever the fuck here to do-“ Elio was cut off. Oliver shoved him down on the bed. 

“Listen, kid. I don’t know what your family told you about me, but I am damn good FBI agent. I know more about you than you know about yourself.” Elio rolled his eyes. “And I certainly know more about your family than you do. I know that some people try to ignore how shitty their family is, but this is the worst case I’ve ever seen.” 

Elio didn’t think this would shock him as much as it did. Oliver calling his family shitty was a punch to the gut. He was putting his life out on the line for this guy, this guy he barely knew, and he felt he had the right to call Elio’s family shitty? Elio didn’t realize that he was crying until Oliver had him folded in half in his arms. If he was more self-aware in the moment, he would have catapulted out of them and tried to reassert that he was in charge, somehow, but he wasn’t capable of that in the moment. He didn’t think about how nice Oliver’s arms felt around him, because he couldn’t afford to. If he had to fake fall in love with Oliver, he couldn’t fall in love for real on top of that. Into Oliver’s shoulder, he barely whispered, “is my family really bad?” And then, more desperate, “please, tell me what you know. I won’t tell them, I just need to know for myself.” 

Oliver pushed Elio forward so that they were making eye contact. He looked at Elio’s red-rimmed eyes for a beat, like it was a test. Finally, he sighed and patted the spot on the bed next to him. Once Elio was situated, he started talking. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” Oliver didn’t turn, but he could feel the bed shaking with Elio moving his head. “Okay, let’s start with this: what have they told you?” 

Elio looked around, trying to remember everything that his parents and Mafalda have told him over the years about the family “business”. The more he thought about it, the more inconsistent it was. He had never thought about it too much, he had never had a reason not to believe them before. Now that Oliver was in his life, he was seeing reasons why he shouldn’t believe his family. He rattled off everything he could remember. “They told me that they kill bad people. That our family is known for being able to handle things like this discretely, and that is how we get all of our jobs.” Elio thought about this for a moment. He didn’t like the implication that everything his family had ever told him was fake. “They would never take a life without reason. They told me all the time that they never wanted to play God. This is where we always came to cool off when things were getting too hot, except for some reason, we brought the law here.” Elio gestured at Oliver. He was essentially all the way supine. He was re-processing all of the information he had gotten when he was a kid and never questioned and now he had a lot of questions. He wondered how he was going to confront his family. He put his hands on his forehead. He felt sick like the room was spinning. His entire identity was gone. He used to love his family, but now he didn’t even know if he would recognize them if he saw them in the living room. How could he have been so wrong? He was breathing like the VHS tapes they showed of birthing breathing. It was the only thing he could remember from school, or anything really, and it seemed to be coming in handy. 

“Elio, please breathe.” Elio felt a hand start to stroke his hair. It was nice. He couldn’t remember the last time his parents had done anything like that. “I’m going to ask you questions, you don’t have to talk, just nod yes or no. Okay?” A nod. 

“Do your parents have any idea that you are suspicious of them?” Elio shook his head. No. 

“Did your parents tell you that you were going to be the one to kill me?” Elio nodded and tried to sit up. “No, no, stay down. Do you want to say something?” Elio nodded again. 

Shakily, he answered. “I asked to be the one. I wanted to be the one to do it. I needed to do something right for once. But, here we are.” Elio referred to the room they were in. He looked disgusted. Then, he put on a tone like his mother. “Elio, you get too close to people. Elio, people will claim love to avoid a bullet every time. Elio, the only people you can trust are us.” 

Oliver softened, pausing his hand in Elio’s hair, and he looked up at Oliver. Oliver decided to ask a question that he hadn’t asked directly yet. “Do you want to kill me?” Elio shook his head. No. 

“Are you sure?” Elio nodded. “Why?” 

“Because you are the only person in my life who treats me nice. I don’t care if it’s because you want to live. I don’t care, and I don’t want to know why you are being so nice to me. No one else cares about me. I guess I don’t deserve it.” Elio had his eyes closed for that whole time when he opened them again, Oliver’s face was over Elio’s. It was much closer than it was. Oliver leaned in and kissed him. Elio kissed him back, completely ignoring his rule of mixing reality and fiction. That was past him, and he was so dumb then. 

“That was incredibly kind.” Perhaps, this was Oliver's 'thank you.' 

“Kind?” 

“Yes, kind.” Oliver braced himself. This was the hard part. “Do you want to know?” He didn’t want to elaborate. Elio knew. He took a deep breath. There was such a long time until his next breath that Oliver thought he might have fallen asleep. Then, the nod. Oliver took another breath. 

“Elio, the FBI has good reason to believe that your family is killing people for sport, and has been, for a while.”


End file.
